"As holy as most of them around here, Eward." Harry said with a smirk, taking another swallow. "But I'm sure I can absolve you somehow." He grinned, dipping a finger in his wine and flicking it at Eward. "In the name of the son, father, and a fairly decent vintage."
"I don't suppose you've brought that dagger to show me, Eward?" Harry asked, still looking down at his glass, not showing his interest. "And arrest warrants? No doubt there are several hundred of those things in that building. I wonder what names have been added to it since last I saw them." He paused, glancing up, clearly hoping Eward would elaborate.
"Is it his own money, do you think? Or his country's?" He asks, swirling his glass before taking another mouthful, "Now now, Eward. You shouldn't do thinks like that." He chastised mildly. "Are you going to admit it? Or only after he has been guillotined?"